A Rumour from Ground Control
by X Music Is Believing X
Summary: What if Alex had gone home during series 3? The repercussions are felt by everyone, and a story too extraordinary to be told spans 70 years...
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N Okay, so this is my first attempt at fanfic :S It's set around the idea of Alex waking up from her coma post 3.05, and its totally AU from the finale, mainly because I didn't really like the ending. Let me know what you think!_**

**_I do not own Ashes to Ashes-though I wish I did.  
_**

It's like walking from a dream, coming back from a world far away, to which you will undoubtedly never return, to the real world. Your eyes are closed, but you can tell the sun it shining, distant voices seem to mutter in the silence pierced by a faint ringing, you can almost make out what they say, but not quite. It is then the smell of disinfectant and other harsh products hits you like an electric shock, and you realise that what you had prayed for for so long has happened. Your home. You have left the dystopia that was 1983 and come home at last.

You force your eyes open to the expected doctors and nurses, and someone else, a young girl with mousey hair and a distinctive birthmark, grinning from ear to ear and ducking away from the medical staff trying to remove her in order to throw her arms around you. Telling you how much she loves you and how everything will be okay. You believe her, you do, and you could not be more happy to be home, but you can't help but consider the world you left behind, because, no matter what your years in the psychology field tell you, your gut instinct (your beginning to think like him, you realise with a hidden smile) is telling you those people had to carry on without you. You also know, the real or imaginary, that world, and the people in it, have changed you forever.

After hours of endless tests to determine the extent of the trauma (Evan tells you that your lucky, the bullet didn't penetrate and your expected to make a full recovery) you are allowed to sleep. That night, you dream of him. Your standing behind him in his office, he is hunched over the table, head resting on his hand, staring into his glass of whiskey. CID is in darkness, you glance at the clock, 1:30am, no wonder. There's more paperwork on his desk than you have ever seen before and when you glance at it, you are stunned. Missing person's reports, for DI Alex Drake, who had vanished 2 months ago without a trace. In 1983, you had just….gone, they would never know….and Gene….It was destroying him. This man in front of you is a shell of the 'manc lion' you once knew._ If I mean anything at all to you Alex…_You had mattered to him it seemed, more than you had ever known.

By day, you put on a brave face for your daughter. She is so excited, telling you how you must have a party for your homecoming. Evan suggests making it a double celebration, partly a belated birthday to make up for the one which was so cruelly destroyed for Molly three days ago. Three days. Nearly three years in the 80's took up less than three days here. How is that possible?

You pluck up the courage to ask Evan for the truth about what happened the day of the car bomb. He immediately turns ashen and you worry for a second he is going to collapse. He wants to know, of course, how you came to find out the truth he was so sure had been carefully covered up that it should never emerge. But that is the point of course, covered up, not destroyed. Most importantly, Evan reveals that there was a man named Gene Hunt who had carried her away that day, but no, he had never heard from him after the custody court case. Evan then left, visably shaken and guilt ridden. Your not sure whether you will ever be able to look at him the same way again.

He was real, you tell yourself, that must mean, surely that 1981 and everything that followed, was real as well. Images flash through your mind too quickly to process. _The bomb going off, Shaz being carried into Luigi's by Chris and ray, you and gene toasting the future, Summer's face contorted in malice, falling to the floor after being shot, Keats pouring poison into your ears, the team laughing, Gene's face as Jim leads you from the office, Layton's bullet speeding toward you with no way of stopping it…_

You mentally shake yourself. There's nothing you can do now. Molly needs you, and you need her. You have what you wanted. Your home. This isn't the fake 2008 you found yourself in once before. This is real. Your responsibilities are here. You have to put 1983 out of your mind and be there for your little girl, she's been through so much. _This is it Alex_, you tell yourself. _This is life._

July 2010

"We'll probably go to the movies after school, mum, so I won't be back until later"

With that, a slam of the back door and the sound of footsteps running down the garden path. I smile fondly, always straight to the point, my molly. So much has changed for her in the last two years. She's no longer a child, but a teenager, who has discovered the wonders of things like makeup, trashy novels and, unfortunately, Robert Pattinson. She's as confident and sassy as ever, maybe more so, but wiser to the ways to the world, something she learnt very quickly in the days following my accident. I immediately feel a fresh wave of guilt. No child should have to experience that. I made a promise after my return home that I would make sure it never happened again. I stepped down from hostage negotiation and now work mainly behind a desk, filling out reports, mostly without ever meeting the subjects of them. I also work a lot from home, in order to spend as much time as possible with my daughter. I'm all she really has now. Her dad's about as reliable as he ever was and Evan…Evan has been distanced from us since I questioned him about the truth as to my parents deaths. It seems neither of us is confident enough to make the first move to rebuilding our relationship. Molly understands that something important must have happened to drive us apart, but I know she misses him. After all, he was practically her grandfather and loved her to pieces. At least of that I am sure.

I return to my seat at the desk. I have arranged it so I faces the window, giving me a view over modern London in all its glory. There is still something beautiful about this urban landscape, even though I secretly long for the London that Gene and I whizzed around in the Quattro, invincible. Or so we had thought. The truth was, Gene and I had been separated long before I came back home. All it had taken was my stupidity. I couldn't understand how. How has I ever believed Keats's lies? That's all they were now. _Trust the Gene Genie…_I did, I never stopped. I didn't understand how I had ever convinced myself otherwise. I know Gene could never have killed Sam. Sam's death in 1980 had been a tragic accident. I'd gotton hold of the report last year. Gene had arrived on the scene, accompanied, as he had been all afternoon, by two DC's, less than 10 minutes after I happened. There was no way he could have been there when the car went under. The truly sickening thing was, I had known without this report that it was the truth, so why had I been so determined to fight it?

_Because Keats knew what you wanted to hear…somehow…he prayed on you weakness, and you fell for it…pathetic…you how thinks your so strong, who would never be misled by anyone else, falling under the influence of a guy like that. How could you…_

I tell my mind to shut up. I know all off this. I've been over it a thousand times already. A thousand times more and it still wont change what happened.

I move your elbow and knock a pile of folders off my desk, snapping me out of my revive. I sigh and bend down to pick them up. I know these folders word for word. Old police records for all my colleagues in the 80's, as well as some Sam worked with in 70's Manchester. The only link I have to them. I sobbed the first time I read them. All those wonderful people, and their ending's he been so much less that what they deserved.

I glance over them once more. Sam Tyler, GMP 1973-1980, Rank: DI, Deceased, killed in action. Annie Tyler, GMP 1970-1981, Rank: DS, deceased, illness related. Christopher Skelton, GMP 1971-1980, London Metropolitan police 1980-1999, Rank: DS, Retired, current ware bouts unknown. Sharon Skelton, London Metropolitan police 1981-1999, Rank: Superintendent, retired, current ware bouts unknown. Raymond Carling, GMP 1967-1980, London Metropolitan police 1980-1986, Rank: DI, deceased, killed in action.

I stop to wipe my eyes. Even though I've read these a thousand times, I still upsets me. The final folder I can hardly bear to open. Gene Hunt, GMP 1962-1980, London Metropolitan police 1980-1983, Rank: DCI, deceased, suicide….

I know the story, having located it from many, many sources. It always works out the same. Five months after the disappearance of one Detective inspector Alex Drake, a respected discipline and complaints officer who had been working closely with her team (whose record has suspiciously vanished, along with all trace of him) accused her DCI, one Gene Hunt, of her murder. While the accusations appeared preposterous to her team and all who worked with Mr Hunt, DCI Keats was able to persuade senior officers to come around to his view and attempt prosecution. This failed to stick due to lack of evidence, but under the circumstances, Mr Hunt was let go from his job with the Met and DI Drake's disappearance became a murder enquiry. When, after nearly 8 months and no new leads, the case was shelved, and the body of DCI Gene Hunt was found by two former colleagues in his London apartment, following neighbours reports of hearing a gun being fired….

I can't go on, it's too horrible. And all my fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Bloody kids…being woken up at 7pm by the chief super to deal with a assault is not something that he appreciated. Especially when I goes on to take until nearly half three in the afternoon. Nightmare paperwork, which for some stupid reason the powers that be had insisted be done on site and handed in immediately. All in all, he hadn't been in CID all day, which, given the paperwork deadline on the murder case they had just solved, probably meant that they would all be working late, as he completely doubted Ray Carling's ability to motivate not only the team, but himself to hard work. Taking to brunt of his anger out on the door as he strode into the office, he announced his presence.

"Right you lot, when I say I wan' case reports done by 4pm, I mean I want….were the flammin' hell's DI Drake?"

It was PC Granger who spoke up in the silence. "Dunno Guv, she hasn't been in all day. We figured she must be sick or summit"

"Did you ask skip whether she'd phoned in?"

"Yeah Guv, but he aint heard from her"

Gene stood quiet for a moment. "Go over to 'er flat an' check on her Granger, an' tell 'er, unless she's really sick to get 'er arse over 'ere pronto."

Shaz had the look on her face that Gene recognised, which he was pretty sure meant that if she was brave enough, she would currently be biting his head off about something. One thing Bolly would have to teach her protégé was to stand up for herself a bit if she wanted to succeed. Turning his attention to the rest of the team, he told their guilty faces

"Pens in hand lads and start scribbling!"

"Just make it intelligent scribbling, eh Gentlemen" came a voice from the doorway.

Gene sighed. "Jimbo! to what do we owe this pleasure?" He snapped sarcastically

Keats merely smiled in that seemingly unaffected way, which Gene knew meant he was quietly fuming and planning some sort of revenge, which, knowing Jim, would involve a lot of paperwork.

"I was just wondering if I could borrow Alex for a…quiet chat" Keats smirked

Gene had to control his breathing. Bastard. He knew how to hit where it hurt. He didn't know what Keats has been saying to Alex but since he came along her manner towards Gene himself has altered so rapidly it had made his head spin. He had a horrible feeling it was Keats who'd planted some nonsense about Sam's death into her head and now she was pursing it doggedly, quickly breaking down a relationship build on trust and security. _Unbreakable Bolly_. Apparently not, all it took was one pen pushing twat to step in and Alex had decided…what exactly? That he'd killed his best friend? Poor Sam….couldn't the two of them allow him to rest in peace?

"Sorry Jimbo…DI Bollyknickers seems to have gone AWOL. But don't worry, I'll send her down to that torture chamber you call your office the second she reappears."

Keats schooled his face into something that was obviously meant to be a concerned frown, but failed pitifully.

"DI Drake doesn't seem like the kind of officer who would just disappear without telling anyone where she was going"

Gene snorted "Now there's were your wrong Jimbo, Bolly frequently vanishes off on 'er own and more often than not ends up getting into trouble because of it…if it wasn't for yours truly she would have fallen fowl of doctor death, frozen, shot and blown up a couple o' times all in the last 18 months"

"Technically, Guv, you did shoot 'er yourself" added Chris in what he seemed to think was a helpful manner. Gene glared at him, while Keats looked mildly amused, which, on him, was always slightly disturbing.

"Well, Gene, as should probably leave you to saddle your white charger and rescue DI Drake from whatever disaster is about to befall her" said Keats with an annoying smirk, before turning on his heals and exiting the office, leaving the members of CID staring after him.

…...

Gene had just settled down in his office with a cup of tea and a plate of garibaldi's when Shaz toppled back through the door of CID and barged straight into his office.

"Granger, common courtesy is to knock before…"

He was cut off

"DI Drake's not in her flat Guv, the door was open so I just wen' in and she's not there, not been there all night by the looks of it, and something weird about the place Guv, can't explain it, just a weird feeling I got when I was there, like summit's changed, or…" She trailed off looking forlorn. "You don't think summit's happened to her, do you Guv?"

Gene sighed. Shaz did have a knack of over dramatising a situation. Having said that. Her loyalty to Drake was admirable to say the least.

"Granger, the most likely explanation is that DI Drake spent the night in the company of some tosser and a few too many glasses of plonk and is currently recuperating at his place. As we all know, it wouldn't be the first time." He trailed off. Since that one night stand a couple of years back, he hadn't actually gotton wind of any guys being in Bolly's life, but he guessed their were plenty of candidates for her to spend the night with. Was that Evan bloke still around? Or…no, surely not even Alex would stoop so low as to sleep with Keats? He ignored the surge of jealously as he realised he'd been lost in his thoughts for almost two minutes while Granger stood looking uncomfortable at the edge of his desk. Dismissing her, he poured himself another whiskey and contemplated what he would say to Drake when she eventually turned up. He knew he couldn't be too hard on her, hell, he'd shot her for gods sakes! It was a miracle she still wanted to work here. No, he would be being a hypocrite to punish her for just about anything she did, short of killing someone in his department. He deserved it, not just for nearly killing her, but for all that stuff he'd said in that argument when he suspended her. And for sleeping with Jeannette, god that had been stupid. Truth be told, he expected a smack in the gob when she came round in hospital, but no, all he got was this new, cold indifference that clearly reminded him that what they had come so close to, was now so out of reach he was honestly beginning to believe they could never get it back.

And if he was truly honest, it hurt. A lot.


	3. Chapter 3

17 August 2023

It's the day every parent both looks forward to and dreads. My Molly, no longer a little girl, but a grown woman of 27 (I have now idea where all that time went) is getting married.

She looks beautiful, hanging onto the arm of her new husband (Dan, an investment banker. Shy, modest…safe. After what she went through with her father, it never surprised me that she picked a guy who has 'dependable' written all over him.) She's laughing, talking with a group of friends she knows from work (she's a police officer, CID…some things never changed I guess). She turns and catches my eye, giving me a questioning thumbs up. I realise I must look a bit forlorn, so smile reassuringly until her attention is diverted by someone else wishing her congratulations.

A man at the bar, whose name I don't know, although I recognise him as the guy who drove into the car park in a 1970's retro sports car which screamed midlife crisis, is trying to catch my eye. I'm not in the mood for him, I need fresh air. I tell myself I'm just going to step outside, but in my heart I know where I'm going. It's not far, just round the corner.

* * *

I push open the gate to the Metropolitan police grave plot…where so many former officers were buried. I was alone…probably just as well. I weave through the gravestones. Having made this trip so many times before, I know where I'm going. 10th row back, 5th headstone.

_DCI Gene Hunt_

_16__th__ April 1938-18__th__ January 1984_

_The manc lion_

_A true hero _

I brushed tears away from her eyes, which always came when I visited this spot. I knew where to find Ray's headstone as well…just a bit further along the row. He'd died in a drugs bust gone wrong. _The kind of thing Gene would always have protected us from. _There was irony in that at least.

I ignored the voice in her head telling me to go back to the wedding, back to Molly. I just want to stay here a little longer. I had never felt comfortable talking to a slab of rock. But here I feel closer to him, and, in my mind at least, we're together, flying around London in the Quattro, arguing in his office, drinking ourselves into a stupor in Luigi's….how much had I lived in two years in the 80's compared with 15 years since I'd returned here. I had Molly, of course, but my daughter had been forced to grow up so much after the shooting, there were times I felt they were utterly different people, and that the bond between them had been changed somehow. Not slackened, but different.

I'd taken early retirement from the police force. Finding it too hard to work in an office all day long. Half expecting Shaz to put her head round the door asking if I wanted tea, or Gene to beckon me into his office with a sharp shout of _BOLLY!. _Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, I could see Ray and Chris trying to light something on fire, Luigi standing over them with a fire extinguisher, just in case. Viv leaning on the counter with disbelieving eyes as Gene hauled someone into the cells, followed by their entire family shouting abuse.

But then something would, inevitably bring me back to the present. Like now, someone in the hall had turned the music up, and it drifted down the street to where I'm sitting.

The world where we lived was so similar, yet somehow so far removed from the one I knew. I often wondered whether I could ever go back, whether, like Sam, my death would take me back to the exact second I left, and all of this could be a dream, or seem to be one. I believed I could be truly happy there now. Knowing Molly was happy and no longer really needed me in the way she had back them….and yet….I couldn't bring myself to do what Sam did…I couldn't hurt those I loved that way. Lord knows, I'd seen Sam's family at his funeral, not understanding why their seemingly happy son or nephew had taken his own life. He'd fought so hard to recover after the accident, why had he done it? At the time, I hadn't understood either, putting it down to some long winded psychological explanation…PTSD…Depression…some undiagnosed damage which had occurred in the accident….but now I understood, Sam had said he couldn't feel anymore…everything meant nothing to him…I could now sympathise with that. Other than my love for Molly, every other emotion seemed to have died when I came out of my coma. Every other emotion belonged to him….

"Mum?"

Oh god…Molly had followed me outside. This wasn't what I wanted for my daughter on her wedding day. I wanted laughter and smiles and happiness…not standing in the middle of a graveyard in her wedding dress while I sobbed over the death of someone I couldn't have even known.

"Are you okay?, what's happened?"

A split second decision. "Come here, Molls"

Molly did as she was told. Folding her dress so she could sit on the ground beside me. Gazing at me through eyes tinged with worry.

"This man, Molls, was the greatest, bravest, most wonderful man I have ever know. He was wonderfully kind and caring, although her never liked to show it too much. He rescued me when I was eight years old and my parents died, and I feel like he's been rescuing me ever since. It's hard to explain Molls, you'll probably never understand, but I love him….very much"

Molly was silent for a moment, obviously turning this information over in her head.

"But mum, you can't have known him. He died in 1984...you would have been eleven…how could you have fallen in love with him?"

I sighed. "I know this is hard Molly, but when I was in my coma, after the shooting, it was like….like I'd gone back in time and I was with him, for a long time. I saw the car bomb which killed your grandparents happened all over again, but I couldn't stop it. I know this sounds mad Molls but…."

"Sam Tyler" Molly murmured, causing me to raise my head abruptly.

"You remember about Sam Tyler?" As far as I knew, Sam Tyler had never been mentioned to Molly since the day of the shooting when she'd read his file.

"I was talking to someone the other day…a colleague…she's new…just transferred from Manchester…the new Superintendent…Maya….and she knew him…Tyler that is…she was his girlfriend before his accident. She was talking about him, and I remembered the name, so I went through some of your old files and re-read his. He said he went back to 1973...and Gene Hunt was his boss…"

Molly trailed off, looking at me with a scandalised expression.

"You mean to say that that was all true? Gene Hunt and time travel and everything?"

I nodded slowly. God knows what Molly's reaction would be. She would be perfectly entitled to claim her mother needed to see a shrink. But, as was so often, my daughter surprised me.

"Bloody hell, its like an episode of Doctor Who" she said with a smile. Our eyes met, and we both burst out laughing. I was laughing through my tears, and Molly had begun to cry as well. She put her arms around me, and we sat there until the tears ran their course and it began to rain.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is the first of two chapters I wanted to get up today, mainly because I'm trying to post the whole story before xmas. The second chapter (chapter 5) contains the reapperance of a character from LOM I couldn't bring myself to leave out. :) Hope you enjoy!**

1:25am….its late, very late….no….keep looking, there had to be something….you must have missed something…talk to Rivens again…her alibi was a bit suspicious…nothing though…you wont find anything…you never do.

DCI Gene Hunt sighs and rubs hand over tired eyes. He's alone in the office, alone on this case in fact. The only one other than himself who doesn't seem to have given up hope of finding Bolly is Granger…always loyal that one. He knows what the others are saying, she dead, revenge of some criminal scum no doubt. He doesn't believe it, maybe he never will. Either way, Keats announced earlier that her disappearance is now being treated as a murder investigation. It cant be right, he would know, he would feel it if she was dead…wouldn't he?

It was exactly six months to the day that Shaz had returned to the office to announce that DI Drake's apartment was empty. He'd brushed it off at the time. Presumed she was with some guy. It wasn't until the next day, when she still hadn't turned up, that he really took notice. A week later it was a full scale enquiry, one that turned up bugger all.

He froze. It was strange but he could have sworn at that moment he could smell her perfume. Like she was standing behind him while he sat at his desk, as she had so many times before. He could almost hear her rabbiting on about modern policing and rulebooks. Echoing words said by one DI Tyler so many years before. That had changed now, Sam was dead and now Alex had gone, and yet…there were times such as these where he felt sure she was close to him.

Only one explanation…he was going mad. Months of late nights and too much whiskey had combined to help him hallucinate. Sad as it sounded he didn't mind as long as it helped him feel closer to her. Gave him the strength to go on in the face of very diminishing hope.

"Working late again DCI Hunt?"

Bugger, Keats. What was he doing here in the middle of the night? Didn't he sleep? Probably not, could easily be a vampire.

"Only way to find her Jimbo is to keep looking, not like you and the rest of that useless lot…" Gene snarled.

The corner of Keats' mouth twitched. Bastard was enjoying this.

"I understand, Gene that you and DI Drake were very close, but I think you need to start facing up to reality, harsh as it may be, I mean…."

Gene cut him off "If your suggesting that I shrug and say 'she's dead' and move on to the next case, then your heading for a punch in the gob Jimbo"

"Easy! Just trying to help" Keats replied, holding his hand up.

"Helping' would be interviewing everyone and anyone who could possibly be involved. Helpin' would be sorting through case files, helping would be searching her apartment AGAIN in case we missed anything. You Jim, your quittin', but then I suppose that's your style.

Keats was giving him the …'I'm going to crush you' look.

"hmmm…intresting. You have a lot of emotions tied up in this case Gene." With that he turn and left the office. He paused at the double doors of CID.

"Mark of a guilty conscience, Gene?"

* * *

The first person into the office the next morning was Shaz (he, of course, had never left). She had a bundle of files under her arm, which he knew, without asking, she had taken home to re-read _again_. He knew deep down it couldn't be good for her. But he wasn't going to stop it. _God is in the detail_.

_Damn right Sammy boy_

The rest of the team arrive promptly. They've learned not to try his patience by being late anymore. Shaz brings him a cup of tea without him having to ask. She's wasted in uniform, he thinks, more brains than the rest of the team put together. A voice in his head tells him _she's wasted here…always will be…just like Bolly…_he shakes his head to clear the irritating voice.

Another, rather unwelcome addition to the party arrives. Jim strides through the door, coat flowing behind him. He's not alone though. As Gene comes lean against the doorframe of his office, four uniform officers, and Viv, who is visibly seething, barrel though the doors. They stand for a minute, until there is silence, all eyes coming to rest on them. When Keats utters the words that send the office into uproar.

"DCI Gene Hunt, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of DI Alexandra Drake on 25th March 1983. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence…"

The office seemed to be moving in slow motion. It was the strangest experience, like someone had just turned the sound off on his life for a few seconds. He was vaguely aware of Shaz screaming at Keats, and that Chris had sunk into his chair, looking like he might pass out any minute. Ray was trying to punch the nearest arresting officer, while Gene allowed himself to be handcuffed and led away, keeping eye contact with Keats all the time. The only sound he could hear in his mind was Sam repeating those same right to countless other criminals. _That's not how it goes, Sam. _Sam had saved him the last time someone had arrested him for a murder he didn't commit. That wouldn't happen now. He smiled slightly, and, for whatever reason, and Alex's face flashed across his mind.

_I wont give up Bolly…I'll find out what really happened, even if it takes me the rest of my life…I'll find out._


	5. Chapter 5

**29th**** April 2049**

Climbing that hill was becoming increasingly difficult…having said that…doing anything was becoming increasingly difficult. That's old age for you, I thought to myself. I laid the fresh bouquet on the grave and collected up the dead flowers, glancing around as I did so. The Met's cemetery had expanded dramatically in all the years I'd been coming here.

I'd done my fair share of exploring. I'd been most surprised, when, about 20 years ago, I'd found the grave of a DI Drake who died in 1983. They'd used the date I disappeared, I noticed, as the day I died. Damn Keats and his false accusations. Those had led to Gene's death, and it was easier to blame him than myself.

I suddenly realised my purse wasn't in the pocket of the coat where I kept it. Had I left it on the bus? I pulled out my handbag to check. No, it was there. I remembered putting it there now. I opened it and smiled. Inside was a picture of Molly and Dan (who was now like a son to me) and their two children, Evan, who, to my delight had followed in my footsteps and was currently studying at Oxford, and their daughter Carrie, the black sheep of the family, all standing on a bridge, Sydney opera house visible behind them. I had taken it last summer, when we'd all gone on a family holiday.

My life had been a happy one, surrounded by love and family and happiness. But lately I couldn't help feeling something was calling me home from another place. _Another time._ Whether it was his voice in a dream, or just little snippets of conversation I recognised from my time in the 80's.

I was hardly surprised therefore, when a shadow approached me from behind. One I knew well enough.

"Sam?"

"Hello Alex, it's a pleasure to finally meet, seems like we know everything about one another without every knowing each other at all."

I smiled, but was brimming with questions…I could only splutter out a pathetic "how….?"

"Am I here? Am I not dead?…sit down, I'll try and explain everything…"

_Easy for you, _I thought, _your not 76, your 35, sitting on the cold hard ground's no problem for you. _And it was true. Sam looked exactly the same as he had in the photo in his case file, despite having travelled to the 70's twice, lived there for 7 years…and now apparently travelled back.

"You know my story of course, car accident, coma, travelling back to 1973, waking up and returning to 2006, throwing my self off the roof of the GMP building…" I winced. He patted my hand in what he seemed to hope was a reassuring gesture, before continuing. "then no doubt someone informed you of what happened when I went back?"

"You lived there for seven years, you married Annie, then you were chasing some blaggers, lost control of the car and drove into the river and died….again" I sniffed, wondering why I wasn't more shocked a man who had died twice was currently sitting with me in a graveyard, having a chat. I smiled in spite of myself.

"yes…well…its hard to explain…but when that happened, I woke up here again…same body…but not really…alive…the other people out there…they cant see me, Alex, only you can. You're the link. I worked it out. When I woke up, I was in your office, and I read the report you wrote about your experiences in your coma, and I knew. I can't get back any other way…I cant do what I did last time, because I'm not alive to die. I know I'm being selfish, but you're my only hope, Alex. I have to get back. You know as well as I do what happens to the others…we can stop it Alex…"

"We can save Gene?"

"Of course. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"I think so…we can go back to 1983, together, and we can save Gene and help the others. But we have to go now, don't we. This is why you're here now. This is it for me here isn't it?"

Sam didn't answer, but his nervous glance down told me everything

"Can I at least say goodbye to my daughter?"

"I'm sorry, Alex, we don't have much time?"

"Can I write her a note, at least?"

His expression softened "of course"

I wrote it, and laid it on the grave, where I hoped she'd find it.

"Sam, one more thing. Did you ever come across DCI Jim Keats?"

"Not that I recall, but from what your report said he reminded me a great deal of DCI Frank Morgan…"

"Do you think they could be connected?"

"Its possible I suppose" He looked thoughtful

"Maybe we should look in to that"

"We will, once we've sorted out the mess we seem to have created between us"

I returned his grin with one of my own, which then faded slightly

"What are we waiting for?"

"Honestly, Alex, I have no idea. I suppose…"

He was cut off as the world around us seemed to ebb away, replaced instead by the white light which I had heard Sam describe from the moment he returned to 2006.

He turned to me, offering me a hand

"Ready?"

"Ready"

And with that we stepped forward into the blinding light and a fate yet unknown.

* * *

**21****st**** January 1984**

Pain was the first thing that occurred to me. I blinked, and quickly realised why everything hurt. I seemed to be lying in the middle of a road. My brain was clouded…how had I got here? Then it came back to me. I was dead, in the 21st century at least, but here…where was here?

I sat up and looked around. A music shop was opposite me, a couple of pedestrians, staring open mouthed at me lying in the street. I tried to focus on anything that would help me get my bearings. The shop was advertising the release of David Bowie's 'Let's Dance' and a newspaper announced the date was early 1984.

We had done it. I felt like jumping up and down and spinning around in the street.

That's when my eye was drawn back to the newspaper again, and it's headline. _'Prominent detective stands trial for murder of colleague'. _Oh god. Gene's trial was today. I ran over and bought a copy, quickly scanning it for details. I picked up the times and locations before spinning round on the spot

"Sam…"

It was then that I realised he wasn't there. My stomach seemed to drop as I considered the possibilities. He had not made it back? Was he in another place? Another time? Luckily, I did not have to wait long. He came bounding up behind me, and, rather unexpectedly, hugged me.

"We did it!" I exclaimed

He gave me his mad grin. "We did"

Then my mind caught up with me.

"Sam…it's the day of Gene's court case, we have to get there!"

"Okay, but…Hey!" he shouted after me as I preceded to run off "We'll take a taxi if you don't mind, that time travelling stuff's like being in a washer on fast spin!"

It didn't take us long to find one. I practically shoved him into it in my desperation to get moving. Checking my watch, I realised we had a maximum of quarter of an hour before the jury went out to decide the verdict.

_Hold on, checking my watch? _I hadn't worn one in years. It was then I noticed I was dressed in skinny jeans and my white leather jacket, as well as ridiculous red heels. I reached up to touch my hair. Sure enough, it was short again, and seemed to have returned to its perm style from when I first arrived. Catching my reflection in the rear view mirror, I realised I had returned to the same age I was when I left 1983 all those years ago. Just as well…it would have been hard for a granny to explain she was in fact the same DI Drake they were talking about.

"Nice perm" Sam smirked

All stuck to fingers up at him and he chuckled.

"By the way…a washer on fast spin?" I asked, a teasing note to my voice

"Comes from spending years in Gene's company, metaphors all over the place"

It wasn't that funny, but we both burst out laughing and giggled until we were both crying from it.

"Feels good to laugh, seems like I haven't laughed properly in years." I told him, wiping my eyes.

"Me neither, its funny, I feel like I'm at peace here. Like I can be really happy. Maybe it's because I know I'm closer to Annie. And Gene and the team of course."

"You've really missed them" It wasn't a question

"So have you" he replied

"You were so confident you would get back. You were so cool, I was terrified."

"To tell you the truth, I wasn't cool at all. I had no reason to believe it would work. Just intense hope, a belief that in a sense, it had to, because if it didn't, then what was I going to do?"

"I'm glad you were so confident. I always hoped my death would bring me back here. But Molly…I love her so much, but now I know she's going to be alright without me, its like I can be at peace with it."

Sam looked at me thoughtfully. I thought he was going to say something when I screamed,

"We're here!"

Our eyes met, and that look spoke volumes. We shared one small nod, and then both left the cab, already running when our feet hit the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger of the last chapter...sorry to say, this one is kind of left on one as well. :S Please review!  
**

**2****1st**** January 1984**

Don't lose your temper

That had been the only advice his lawyer had given him. Whatever happens, don't lose your temper. Easier said than done, when he was standing trial for the murder of the woman he loved (yes, loved, he knew that now) and having his name dragged through the mud all over again. Just about everyone seemed to have given up on him, decided he was guilty, other than his team (and Annie, who'd come done from Manchester just yesterday to give him support at the trial).

So he tried to be patient. It wasn't so much that they were accusing him, although it did hurt, the main factor was that everyone but Shaz had given Alex up for dead and had stopped looking for her, when she could,_ had to be, _still alive.

No, they'd all been far too willing to follow DCI Keats and his new age policing, pen pushing and filling out reports on everything, making bar charts of how many paperclips each unit uses in a months and spending months pouring over them to find cost cutting solutions, while the criminals of London walked free, sniggering into their sleeves about the idiocy of the Met.

The prosecution lawyer was asking him another question, which he answered emotionlessly_. No, he and DI Drake's relationship was nothing more than professional, but yes he supposed they could be counted as friends. _

This entire courtroom was working against him and he knew it. It was a club for the close and treasured friends and acquaintances of Jim Keats.

"DCI Hunt, when was the last time you saw DI Drake"

"When she left work, the night before she disappeared, I've already told you that"

His lawyer kicked him under the table.

"How was the mood between yourself and DI Drake at that point?"

"What's that supposed t'mean?"

"I simply mean, we're you happy, did you part on good terms?"

"I suppose, she said she was off, I said nigh', if you call that good terms"

"In general then, how was your…um…relationship?"

"We work well as a team."

"What about more personally, you claim to have been friends?"

"was aright"

"Care to elaborate DCI Hunt?"

"Look you picky pain in the ass, If you must know, things had been better, obviously she was still a bit pis…a bit upset about what happened in December '82"

"You mean when you shot her, Mr Hunt?"

Gene clenched his hands, what he wouldn't give to deck this arrogant prick.

"It was an accident"

"That was never proved…and it is in fact the findings of DCI's Keats investigation that it may not have been a accident at all.

A voice rose from the back of the courtroom

"You lyin', two faced bastard!"

The chief super's voice answered back. "That will do PC Granger!"

Gene watched Chris pull Shaz back into her seat and take her hand. He hoped if any good could come out of all this it would be that those two would get back together. They were meant for each other, that much was certain.

The judge looked a little disgruntled. "Any more disturbances and I shall clear the court!"

Shaz tried and failed to look guilty, although slightly pleased with herself would better sum up her expression. He felt damn proud of her at that moment.

"As I was saying" the lawyer continued. "it is the belief of DCI Keats that the original shooting was not an accident, and, when it failed to have the desired effect, DCI Hunt took drastic measures to remove DI Drake from his life. The murder was therefore pre-meditated, and, quite possibly, cold blooded".

"I DIDN'T KILL 'ER" he roared. That was 'not losing his temper' out the window then.

"Then can you explain what did happen?"

"I told you, I don't know, I never saw 'er after that night!"

"I thought you said you didn't see her after she left the office?"

"Yes! That's what I meant"

"But 'after that night' implies you spent the night with her, did you DCI Hunt?"

"Your twisting my words"

"So your not denying it?"

His lawyer finally spoke up. Thank the lord, he'd been thinking he was paying her to sit there mute all the time.

"Objection your honour, this is not an appropriate line of enquiry"

The judge looked flustered. "Alright then" he turned to the prosecution lawyer "any further questions?"

The man shook his head and was going to return to his seat when the double doors at the back of the room were violently pushed open and a voice shouted

"I've got one!"

The courtroom went into disarray. Annie let out a barley smothered squeal, while Ray settled for announcing "Bloody hell" loudly. Chris passed out, sprawling sideways onto Shaz's lap, who, poor girl, having never met the person in question, looked utterly confused. The voice spoke again, this time accompanied by a figure stepping from the shadows into the courtroom.

"Anyone care to explain why your arresting one of the best coppers in London, if not England, for the murder of a woman who isn't even dead?"

**TBC **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Alex and Sam to the rescue! Just wanted to mention, that although this chapter might seem like an ending, its not. Still have to resolve the 'Keats issue' in my own way, which i warn you, will be nothing like it was on the show! **

"Sam!"

He does a strange pivot on the staircase he is currently running up to turn round and face me.

"What?" he asks exasperatedly. I know he's as anxious to see Annie as I am to see Gene.

"How are we going to explain it? We can't just show up, two people who are supposed to be dead with no explanation of where we've been and why we never contacted anyone to let them know we were alive!"

He grimaces.

"Well, I suppose we could…" He trails off. He's suddenly looking into the inside pocket of his jacket. There's an envelope there that he obviously has no idea about. Hastily ripping it open, he quickly scans the contents and his eyes become very wide.

"What is it?"

He murmurs "Do you remember when were first arrived in the past, we both had warrant cards and forms explaining our transfer that we never brought with us?"

"yes…"

"We'll, I think this might be the same sort of thing. These are classified documents, according to which, we've been doing secret undercover work for the government since we disappeared. That's our story."

"We have to lie to them all?"

He frowns "As opposed to telling them what? That we've been back to the future where we came from, both died there, returned here, in my case twice….they'd have us locked up. I don't like it anymore than you do, Alex, but it has to be done."

I nodded. He began running again and I followed him. Pretty soon, we reached the end of the corridor that held the courtroom.

"I think I should go in first, it'll be less of a shock" he told me. I snorted, whatever way we did it would be a huge shock. But I could see his point.

"Okay"

"Show time"

He smiled at me, before slamming the doors to the courtroom open so hard they both bounced off the walls. I heard him announce,

"I've got one!" in response to whatever question the judge had just asked. I rolled my eyes. Why did everyone I know seemed to have such a flare for the dramatic?

I listened at the door, trying to hear what was happening. It was no use though, the sound was muffled, so I pushed one door open quietly and stepped inside, keeping to the shadows.

It was Keats' voice I heard first

"I'm sorry to inform you DI Tyler, but DI Drake died 6 months ago. This is an official investigation into her murder"

God I hated him now, how had I ever trusted him over Gene? I'd been an idiot, that much was certain. I looked around for Gene, and found him. He was slumped in a chair, his face ashen, staring at Sam like he was seeing a ghost (he _was_ in his mind). He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept properly in months. My heart immediately went out to him. I could stop this, I _would_ stop this. Now.

"You might want to double check your facts Jim" God, I sounded more confident than I felt.

A collective gasp in the courtroom, Gene struggled to his feat, breathing my name. I locked eyes with him. And it stayed that way. I was vaguely aware of Sam whooping triumphantly as the judge ruled there was no verdict in a murder case where the 'victim' was still alive, and dismissed the court. Out of the corner of my eye I registered Annie stumbling towards Sam before falling, sobbing into his arms, Ray doing some sort of victory dance, and Chris and Shaz hugging everyone in sight. But my mind was really on Gene, as I climbed over the barrier, both physical and emotional, which had been keeping us apart, and did what I should have done years ago. I kissed him.

And we were both too wrapped up in one another to notice the cheer that went up in the courtroom.

…...

Hours later, I was stood in Luigi's on my third glass of champagne (which he insisted was on the house) surveying the party which had been going on since we arrived. Gene's arm hadn't left my waist after he wrapped it around me as we left the courthouse. Sam had made a big speech explaining where we'd supposedly been, even producing the documents from his jacket, which earned some impressed noises from his audience. However, now both Sam and Annie were being particularly conspicuous by their absence.

Chris and Shaz were kissing in the corner. It seemed everything which had happened in the last few months had been enough to remind them how good they were together. Ray appeared to be chatting up some poor woman, who obviously wasn't the least bit interested, at the bar. Gene and I had retreated to the table which had informally been 'ours' before the shooting. We hadn't said many words to each other yet, but it seemed we didn't need to. I hoped he would never ask me about the time I was away. I wanted to keep lying to a minimum.

He turned to me and smiled. "Bolly, Bolly?" he asked, gesturing with the champagne.

"I really shouldn't…."

"Never stopped you before"

I raised my eyebrows, but held out my glass for a refill all the same.

He took a mouthful of his own drink and sighed. "Bet Annie's given' Sam an earful, broke 'er heart when he left."

"Is that what your planning to do to me?" I asked

He looked surprised. "Course not, so glad to see you back, I don't care where you've been" He looked mildly embarrassed. Gene Genie caught being sensitive for once.

"I would imagine that's how Annie feels about Sam. She loves him, all she cares about right now is that he's alive."

He looked thoughtful. "Yeah…apparently this love thing messes up your head…"

That caught my attention, was that Gene's way of saying he loved me? I raised my eyes to his and realised it was. Lowering my voice, so as not to damage his ego too much, I confirmed his feeling were returned.

"Course Bolly. Your only human after all…" But I could see past the bravodo to the happiness and relief he was actually feeling. There was only one way to go now.

"Grab your coat, you've pulled."

His head snapped up, and for a second it seemed he was making sure he'd heard me right. Then he gave me a genuine smile, took my hand and practically dragged me out of the restaurant, ignoring the wolf whistles behind us.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Okay, so we return to the Keats issue, this might seem a bit confusing, and I realise not everyone will like it, but this is just my idea of how things should have gone. The next chapter will be up this evening, and I will probably upload the epilogue then as well, since its extremley short and christmasy. Anyway, on to chapter 8...**

"BOLLY, TYLER, get your respective arses in 'ere NOW!"

Gene watched as Alex and Sam exchanged a knowing look before leaving there desks. _Bloody sarky DI's._ He tried to grumble, but his heart wasn't really in it. To be honest, a week where you find out that the woman you love and your best friend aren't actually dead like everyone thought, and manage to start a relationship with said woman, has to be classed as a pretty good week in anyone's books.

They both enter his office, bringing him out of his thoughts. Alex gives him a small smile that he interprets the meaning of. Sam sees it though, and grins, even when Gene shoots him a look that effectively means bad things.

He tries to regain composure. Bolly's smile was disarming to say the least. It should be on the dangerous weapons list.

"Right, this case is goin' precisely no where, either of you got anything for me?"

They both look guilty and shake their heads. This has to be one of the most annoying robbery cases he's ever worked. They've been on it for days and turned up nothing.

"Right, well, we maybe need a new line o' enquiry. Tyler, you…."

He's cut off by a loud shriek from the office. It's Shaz, screaming at something in a box on Chris' desk.

Gene exit's his office with a loud shout of "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"

He soon sees though. On the desk in front of him is a cardboard box filled with live maggots. Shaz has run out the room and Chris has collapsed into his chair. Viv, who delivered the box, is looking vaguely sick.

"There's a note!" Alex points out. Sure enough, there is, buried under all the maggots.

"Ray, get it out" he instructs. Ray looks terrified at the prospect. Gene sighs

"Alright, I'll do it, you great girl"

He fishes the note out of the box with difficulty. Everyone peers over his shoulder to read it.

_**You've forgotten, haven't you. You'll remember soon, remember BK**_

"BK?" Alex questions.

"Haven't the foggiest" Gene replies.

"Why would someone send this to Chris?" Alex asks aloud, although he's pretty sure she's talking to herself as much as she is to any of them.

"They didn't" Sam answers, checking the address. It was for the Guv, care of DC Chris Skelton."

Alex looks worried. "What's going on?"

"Beats me, Bolly"

She looks thoughtful "There's something familiar about the handwriting"

Gene snorts. "Typical woman, box full o' maggots and your focusin' on the bloody penmanship"

Suddenly her eyes light up "Keats" she whispers.

"What?" he asks darkly. No of them had seen or heard from Keats since the day of the trial. He'd simply vanished. His office was still as it had been, but some investigation from Annie had found there was no record of a D&C officer by the name of James Keats in the system.

Suddenly, Alex spun on her heel and ran out the room. Gene rolled his eyes and followed her, beckoning the others to do the same. They found her in Keats' office, sitting in his old chair holding a report.

"Here" she said, handing it too him. "I knew it looked familiar"

Sure enough, the handwriting on the report was an exact match to that in the note.

"It was Keats?" Gene asked. This was too mind-blowing for words.

Alex nodded. "He was never a police officer. He came here to hurt you, to bring you down. I don't know why, but I'm guessing this 'BK has something to do with it. Since his plan to frame you for my murder failed, I guess this must be his next step."

"BK…" Annie wondered aloud. "That could be somebody Keats…a relative maybe….it could be he's seeking revenge for something you did to a family member of his….maybe it was somebody you put away Guv"

She was probably right. "Right, Bolly, Cartwright…Good work" He says. He ignores Annie as she corrects her surname under her breath.

He leaves the office. Alex calls his name, but he doesn't stop walking until he's back in his own kingdom. The office of the Manc lion.

She shuts the door behind her.

"What you thinking, Guv?"

"God knows Bolls" He sighs. "All I know is tha' this is getting more mixed up by the minute"

She nods. He tries to regroup his thoughts.

"So this BK is most likely a relative of Keats, and to get revenge for whatever I did to them, Keats posed as a D&C officer and infiltrated my team. When 'is plan to get me removed from the force went belly up, he sent tha' message. Right?

She nods again. "Looks that way"

"Fuck"

And that's all he can think of to say.

"What do you reckon 'e's gonna do next?" he asks her

She shrugs. Her eyes are tainted with worry. Suddenly, she leaps forward and throws her arms around him. He doesn't really understand what's just happened, but he wraps his arms protectively around her waist. After a minute, she steps back, rubbing her eyes, where he suspects he sees tears forming, and exhales loudly. That was a strange display of affection from her, but he feels that is doesn't need questioning. Its rather nice having someone to worry about him.

A knock at the door interrupts his train of thought. Its Sam.

"Guv, Alex…think you might want to take a look at this…."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, the explanation about Keats. This alludes heavily to Life on Mars, Series 1, Episode 7. After this, there is only a short epilogue, which will either be up tonight or tomorrow. **

Gene and I follow Sam out into the main office. Sam is chattering, but all I manage to catch is "I found it!"

"All right, Boy wonder, what have you found?" Gene asks.

Sam rushes over to the whiteboard and starts drawing a mind map. "Billy Kemble" He announces. We all look blank. He sighs.

"1973, not long after I…err…transferred to the Guv's department…"

"Back when you were behavin' like a plonker you mean, Tyler?" Gene interrupts

I shush him impatiently

"As I was saying" Sam continues, ignoring Gene's comment "1973, we arrest Billy Kemble for indecent exposure and then get into investigating him for drug dealing, which we reckoned he was into. Gene and I left him in the custody of DS Carling and DC Skelton, at which point…" He trails off.

"What happened?" I ask, although my question is directed at Ray rather than Sam.

"He died, in police custody…Chris an' me…well…we did something we shouldn't of an'….well, 'e died…'eart attack…."

"And then what?" I have a horrible feeling I know where this is going.

"And then I covered it up" Gene finishes. "It was wrong, as Tyler told me _so_ many times, but everyone's neck was on the line. Me, Sam, Ray, Chris, Annie, even our ol' desk sergeant Phyllis. I couldn't ruin all those careers just 'cause of one stupid mistake."

The silence seems to drag on as I process this. Its only broken when Annie re-enters the room from wherever she's been, and goes to whisper something in Sam's ear. His triumphant grin breaks the tension.

"My wonderful wife…" A shared grin between them "…Has just found the missing piece of the puzzle"

We all look expectantly at him.

"Billy Kemble had two brothers. The elder of whom changed his name to try and distance himself from the notoriety of his family. Mainly because he was a police officer. However, it seems that after his brothers death he wanted to see the person responsible punished, and so tried to ruin his career 11 years ago"

"Morgan" I breath, and Gene glances at me

"Morgan?" He asks "That tosser from Hyde?"

Sam nods.

"The one who got you to spy on us, Boss?" Ray asks, the hint of a sneer in his voice.

I roll my eyes. Ray would always make it a contest with Sam it seemed. Sensibly though, Sam ignores him.

"DCI Morgan was determined to bring Gene down. Claimed it was about modernizing the force, but it always seemed more than that, more personal."

"He wanted to avenge his brothers death" I add

"That's not all though" Sam replies

"Oh?"

"The second brother, James, youngest by about ten years, has been in the attention of the police for a while. He was proclaimed a child genius, but the police have had a strong suspicion that he was using his brain for crime rather than anything helpful. However, he disappeared off the radar about a year ago, they reckon he might have changed his name as well."

I understand where this is going, although everyone else looks blank. "He disappeared a year ago, when James Kemble became Jim Keats" I finish

"Exactly" Sam replies.

Everyone is silent for a moment.

Gene breaks the silence "So all that Jim's done; the fake investigation, stichin' me up for murder, sending tha' note…It was all to revenge his brother?"

"I guess he wanted to succeed where Frank Morgan failed" Sam replies.

"Well" Gene says, looking a little dazed. "We best find Jim Keats…or whoever he bloody well actually is, and bring him in for questioning"

"How are we gonna find 'im Guv?" Shaz asks "He could be anywhere"

Gene looked put out. I though, have an idea

"I think I know where he could be…he told me his upbringing had been strictly religious, and he said he always goes to church on Vine Street during his lunch hour, so presuming his routine hasn't changed…"

"Then he'll be there right about now" Gene says " Right boys, Fire up the Quattro!"

* * *

Gene, Sam, Ray and Chris left about half an hour ago to check the church. The rest of the team had gone for lunch and Annie had gone to locate some sandwiches for us. Luckily, Viv had removed the box of maggots.

I sat on the edge of Shaz's desk. Something he been bothering me since I returned. I had presumed me seeing the stars had been a warning for my imminent return to the future. But that didn't explain why Shaz had seen them too.

"Shaz, you remember a while ago you told me something about stars?"

She nodded.

"Have you seen them again since?"

She shook her head "No Ma'am, when I went to the doc's to see about my flu I had a while back, I asked 'im about it, an' he said it was probably just a side effect of stress"

I nodded and moved away from her desk. Maybe that was all it was, pure coincidence. I couldn't help wonder though, how much the lives of the people here were tied with mine. I didn't have time to wonder for long though, as a slamming door heralded Gene's return.

"Bolly, Keats is in the interview room, want in on it?" he asked me. I grinned and followed him. Taking his hand for a moment and squeezing it.

* * *

"So Jimbo…posing as a police officer, inventin' a murder charge, disappearing completely…quite impressive"

Keats sneered. "I told you not to underestimate me"

I'm reliably informed that your some kind o' genius, Jim" Gene continued

"Child genius" Keats confirmed.

"I think your living proof of the fact there's a thin line between genius an' madness" Gene replies, a serious note to his voice that has made criminals shake in their boots.

Keats scowls. "I did what had to be done"

"For your brother?" Gene asks, a slight smirk

"You killed him!" Keats shouts, suddenly losing control "You left him in the hands of those incompetent buffoons you call officers and then covered it up when they let him die."

"You deserved it" he adds, still fuming.

"Both you and your brother tried to bring me down. Ruin my career, prove I hurt and killed those closest too me, and you know why Jim? Because you're a coward, so was Frank. Neither of you could actually bring yourselves t' kill me and truly avenge your brother. So you convinced yourself ruinin' my career was enough. You and I both know it would never have really seemed that way for you Jim"

Keats merely continues to smirk.

Gene raps it up

"James Kemble, I am charging you for impersonating a police officer, tampering with evidence, giving a false statement to a court of law, wasting police time, threatening behaviour and attempting to elude capture by the police. I will also make sure there's a restrain' order against you for my whole team when you get out o' jail.

With that, Viv escorts Keats (or Kemble, rather) from the room and from our lives, and once their gone I wrap my arms around Gene and push my hand inside his jacket to rest over his heart, mimicking the position from that first day all those years ago.


	10. Epilogue

**A/N: This is it everyone! Just a short fluffy epilogue. Merry Xmas!**

**Christmas Eve 1984**

You have to admit, the scene around you is a mess. The entire station is blind drunk and toppling over one another, singing disjointed Christmas carols between taking swigs of their drinks. You honestly think you've never laughed harder or felt happier than you do tonight. The world seems at peace, just for a moment.

He rejoins you at the table and gives you that smile you know is exclusively yours, one that no one else ever sees. You reach over to squeeze his hand, then join him in a toast for the year to come, clinking your glass against his. The fire's light glints off the ring on your finger, a beautiful diamond inscribed by one word

_Unbreakable._

Your not sure what the music choices for tonight in the restaurant are based on, it seems to be a mix of Christmas songs and last years pop music. The track changes, and you stand, recognising the opening bars, and offer your hand to Gene.

"Let's have a dance"

He looks scandalised. "No…Gene Hunt does not dance!"

You raise your eyebrows at him suggestively, and he begrudgingly sighs

"Alright, lets get the dancing out the way"

Taking your hand, he leads you into the middle of the restaurant, as Spandau Ballet plays loudly. He wraps one arms around you waist and takes your hand in his.

Peering over his shoulder, you watch your friends enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the holiday. Sam and Annie are sat on a table near the fire, legs intertwined, hands joined, whispering in each others ears and laughing at whatever private joke they are telling. Ray is chatting up yet another woman at the bar, who has a peculiarly smug look on her face. Scanning your memory, you realise why. You remember him leaving with said woman last Christmas, and event which has undoubtedly slipped his mind. She is probably planning her revenge, now he is much more drunk than she is and totally at her mercy. You wonder is you should warn him, but decide maybe a taste of his own medicine is probably what he needs. Chris and Shaz are kissing under the mistletoe. You can see why the others call them 'sickeningly romantic'. You cant help think its rather sweet all the same. Viv meanwhile, appears to be arguing with Luigi over the football. Men, honestly….

Slowly, you lower your head to rest on Gene's shoulder, where is remains for the rest of the dance. As the song ends, he kisses you lightly on the lips, and, keeping your hand tightly in his, leads you towards the stairs of your flat, which has been 'home' to both of you for quite some time now.

At the foot of the stairs, you turn to take one more glance at your assembled friends, think momentarily of your family in the future, but realise that tonight, everyone you love, no matter where they might be, are happy.

And ultimately, that's all that matters.

**THE END**


End file.
